


Plutt's Hut

by pptnsn



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 07:54:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16512302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pptnsn/pseuds/pptnsn
Summary: A favorite 80's romance novel trope. Teens trying to determine who the father is.





	Plutt's Hut

The boy looked up from his normal stocking duties catching the girl’s intake of breath. Not everyone would have noticed, but he noticed everything when it came to the girl.  “What is it?”  He started asking before he turned around.  Her peculiar hairstyle bounced when she turned her head abruptly. 

 

“It’s that guy.  He was here yesterday, and I don’t know...he looked at me funny.”  The girl gazed out the storefront to the sleepy shopping center outside.  There was indeed a man approaching on foot, his features just becoming distinguishable in the distance. 

 

The boy, though given to self-absorption not unusual in a sixteen-year-old, was immediately on alert when it came to the her.  He moved into her space, turning her around to face him. “Funny how?”   His hazel gaze boring into her.

 

“Not like that!”  She stepped back. “We get that type.  We are open to the public after all.  I mean, I don’t know.  Intense, kinda like you.  It was weird like I was under a microscope.  If he asked to draw me, I would think he was serious.”

 

The boy sensing there was no immediate danger relaxed.  “What does that even mean?” 

 

“I told you I didn’t know.”  She sighed. “Why do you have to get all overprotective.  You’re not my big brother you know?”

 

“Seriously, that’s what you’re gonna go with?”  The man was still approaching, his long strides eating up the pavement.  “Do you want me to serve him and you make the coffee?”

 

The girl looked up at the rapidly approaching customer and ducked around the boy.  “Just this once.  Then you tell me what you think.  Maybe it was all in my head.”

 

“Good morning, welcome to Plutt’s Hut. What can I get you this morning?”  The boy called out as soon the door opened.

 

“What do you have on brew today?” The man asked his brown eyes quickly scanning the chalkboard that should have stated today’s medium and dark roast options.  The boy’s eyes followed, and he sighed.  He was supposed to have written it, obviously.  His long lanky frame was good for something. 

 

“A single source Italian roast Sumatran and a Tanzanian peaberry. I’ll get it on the board soon.”  The boy looked back at the man, meeting his eyes.

 

“Yesterday, I had a Brazilian Santos French roast…” The man spoke seeming distracted. 

 

‘We can make a pour over of any of the beans on the menu.”  The boy’s tone matched the man’s for distraction.  Brown eyes had to be the most boring eyes, but that shade of brown was more familiar to the boy than any other.  The nose was unmistakable too. 

 

The man took a while to answer and the boy prodded, “We can make a press too, if you want a whole pot.”

 

“The Sumatran should be fine.  Large, no room for cream.”   The man finally spoke.

 

The boy quoted the price and was disappointed when the man paid with cash. The girl plunked the drink down on the counter.  The man jumped slightly when she voiced her thanks for his patronage. 

 

She moved closer to the boy, an instinct that had been with her forever when she was uncomfortable.  The man thanked them both, turned and left. 

 

The girl slipped an arm around her brother’s waist.  “I have to stop looking for him in every face, but he looked so much like you.” 

 

The boy squeezed his sister’s shoulder.  “Hey, I do it too.  I thought he had your eyes.”  He smiled down at her.  “We’re pathetic.”  He laughed at them and returned to his station as she took up her post at the register.  She was much better with the public and he was better behind the scenes supporting her.  He was an amazing barista and he knew it.  He had learned from the best, his mom.

 

The twins opened the shop every morning for their mom. It was the only way they would earn enough for a car, which is what they told their mom when they insisted, they were fine on their own running the shop.  The reason they were up at 5am every morning to have the shop open at 6am was to give their mom a well-deserved break.  The shop was a family business and it was their family.  Their mom had sunk her life savings into buying the shop from old man Plutt and had worked her ass off to make it a success. They were proud of her. 

 

By 6 the shop was ready and no later than 6:30 their favorite customer came in.  The shop was usually dead until 7 so the twins took turns trying to engage him. They cobbled bits and pieces together, he was in Niima on sabbatical.  It didn’t take long for them to realize he was loaded, he tipped their college fund jar excessively well every day. He said he was a consultant which both kids took to mean, none of their business. They got all types in the country of Jakku.  Their mom said it was because there was no extradition cooperation.  The wondered if the man was in Jakku for that reason. 

 

They knew he passed two other chain coffee shops on the way there because he liked their freshly roasted beans.  The girl proudly told him her mom started roasting beans and the shop’s real profit was her small batch roasting and business she did with high-end restaurants. 

 

The boy didn’t talk as much, but he paid attention to everything.  He had a good idea of the man’s taste in coffee and would start a pour over for him the moment they could make out his distinct gait.  It all depended on what they were brewing.  If he deemed the chosen brews for the day to be to the man’s liking he served him that.  He told himself that people liked personal attention, but he knew better.

 

After two solid weeks, the man had not strayed not even on the weekends neither did the kids, the pattern changed. The man didn’t come until 8:30. Both kids had been anxious, though neither had time to talk about it.  By seven the shop really picked up as people dropped in on their way to work.  At eight two more people showed up on staff to deal with the morning crowd that was over by 10 and the kids went off duty until they did an evening shift, from 6 to closing. 

 

The girl’s anxiety calmed when she saw him three patrons back in her line.  She flashed him a cheerful smile before serving the next customer.  “Hi, welcome to Plutt’s Hut.  May I take your order?”  She worked hard to keep her pleasant demeanor in place. 

 

“Hey, Li-Li.”  This customer was familiar, he went to school with her.  “Fancy seeing you here.”  He leered leaning on the counter.

 

“Not fancy at all, I work here. What would you like to drink?”  The girl tried her best to keep her tone even and professional. 

 

“Who says I want a drink?  Maybe I came in for a sweet pastry.”  He grinned again.

 

She worked to tamp her temper down.  “Terrence, what would you like to order?”

 

Behind the counter, the boy snapped to attention at the aggravation in his sister’s tone.  He looked at the boy holding up the line and gritted his teeth.  Mom had warned him about being rude to customers.

 

“So, Li-Li, when were these croissants baked?”  Terrence gestured to the pastry case.  The boy didn’t know how much he could stand, he began to cross the small space to aid his slightly older sister.

 

“Hey kid, are you going to order something or get shot down by the girl?” A big voice from a big man spoke with the irritation of all his fellow patrons. 

 

Terrance wasn’t an easily cowed child. “What’s it to you?” He asked belligerently.

 

“You’re being an ass and we have places to be this morning that don’t include watching you posture.”  The man spoke again.  

 

The boy walked forward with the day’s dark roast that he had personally selected for the man. “Here’s your order, sir.” 

 

The girl rang him up, ignoring Terrance.  The man took his cup and stepped to the side keeping an angry eye on Terrence. The boy presented a cup to the next woman in his sister’s line. They had a lot of regulars and he had a good memory.  He prepared orders and his sister rang them up.  Business flowed around Terrance for four customers before the kid gave up his battle of wills and left the shop.

 

The man sat drinking his now second cup of coffee when the girl came over to his table.  “Thank you for punking Terrance today, you know the kid from earlier.” 

 

He put his phone down, “He didn’t frighten easily.  You’ll want to be careful around that one.”

 

The girl waved, “I’m not worried about him.  He’s only doing that because we’re at work and must stay professional.  He wouldn’t try that at school, I can take him.  My mom made sure we did martial arts for the discipline and the confidence.  I doubt it would ever come to that though, most people wouldn’t want to tangle with my brother.”

 

“Yeah my brother. Don’t we look alike?” The girl grinned and beckoned her brother forward. 

 

The man looked shocked. “No.  Not at all.”

 

“Yeah, we get that a lot. Baby Brother take a picture of me and my favorite customer.  A selfie would look ridiculous.”  She passed her phone over.

 

“No, it wouldn’t, not if you’re tall enough.”  The boy grouped the girl and the man and asked, “Do you mind?  My sister’s enthusiasm, gets away with her.”

 

“Uh, not really. Please don’t post this online.  You never know who’s lurking and I want to enjoy my sabbatical.” 

 

“Fair enough.”  The girl agreed.  She and her brother had no intention of sharing this photo.  The boy took his beanie off and smoothed his shoulder length hair behind his ears.  He needed to be on display as much as possible.

 

Once the picture was snapped the man took out his own phone.  “If you can have a favorite customer, I can have favorite baristas.”  He had no intention of sharing his picture either.  When he held his phone up the boy’s spectacular ears almost made him drop the device.  Then he too took a moment to smooth his hair back, tucking it behind his impressive ears.  The man’s heart beat a little fast, but the girl was older, she said so herself and although she reminded him of a girl he once knew, that girl certainly didn’t have a child. 

 

“Now you have a picture of the most mismatched twins ever.”  The girl laughed and playfully elbowed her brother.  “This one took all the nutrients in the womb.”

 

“Whatever, you are tall for a girl.” The boy assured his sister.  He pulled his beanie back in place and the man couldn’t help but give him some advice. 

 

“Own the ears. Embrace them and no one can make you feel bad about them.  If you do it with confidence, girls will even find them cute.”  He shrugged, “Besides the beanie looks ridiculous inside.”

 

The boy’s hand moved to the loud green and orange beanie that matched his Plutt’s Hut apron. The man hadn’t said anything his mom hadn’t said.  At the time he never wondered if his mom was speaking from experience.  He probably got the ears from his absent dad. 

 

“You wear your hair long to cover your ears.”  The girl was quick to the boy’s defense.

 

The man smirked, “I have great hair.  It’s even better than the ears.” 

 

Rose, a fellow barista looked on at the kids talking to the guy.  They were animated and engaged, which was normal for the girl.  She knew for sure this must be the tip jar guy. They had two, one marked college fund that pulled in at least four times as much the one Rose and Paige shared.  The boy, BB, wanted to use it for a car and the girl wouldn’t budge. She admired the girl’s tenacity, but she had not missed the detail they had enough to buy a car.

 

When the man left that day, he went straight to the drugstore in the shopping center to print the picture.  He studied it off and on all day. 

 

The twins pulled the picture up on the laptop they shared.  “Li-Li, see what I mean about the eyes.  Those are your eyes.  No one else has eyes that color.”

 

The girl was incredulous. “Are you kidding me?  Look at the two of you. Those ears, that gorgeous hair.  You have hat hair but, come on.  If you didn’t have mom’s eyes, I would swear he spit you out.” 

 

BB studied the picture then traced the man’s prominent nose with this forefinger and sighed.  “I would have to be blind not see what you mean.” 

 

Both kids kept the picture on their phones and never mentioned it to their mom.  The man set the picture as his phone’s background.  The girl noticed the following day and shared it with her brother.  They both knew they were old too indulge in this fantasy.  Their mom had shared their father’s name and tearfully explained he was dead when they were eight.  It was a topic their fearless mother shied away from, and even at eight they were intuitive enough to let the conversation go but it didn’t mean they didn’t dream. 

 

The man saw the kids each day, making it into the coffee shop every day even on Sunday when it opened at 10 am.  The girl rang him up and the boy prepared his unordered beverage and each day he dropped a large bill into the tip jar.  Occasionally he purchased fresh beans, from boy’s suggestion to take home.  At forty-six, he knew his coffee tastes well, but it gave him pleasure to let the boy surprise him. 

 

The three of them participated in the fantasy. The man could dream of what could have been if he didn’t probe too deeply for anything concrete.  The kids could dream a little dream but at some point, it becomes awkward to interact everyday with obvious warmth and not address a person by name. With determination they pressed on, the man was answered to ‘favorite customer’ as though he been christened as such.  His fellow customers saw the tips he left for the children and didn’t bother with trying to compete. He called the kids Li-Li and BB, monikers they had born since infancy, but he never probed what it stood for.

 

“Good morning!  How is Plutt Hut’s favorite customer this morning?”  The girl sang out. 

 

“Good.”  The man smiled at the kids. “BB are you ever going to have the board filled before I get in?” 

 

BB grumbled “Stop coming in at the crack of dawn and maybe.” 

 

“I don’t care for crowds, so no. What do you have today?”

 

“Actually,” The boy looked over his shoulder from where he was preparing the board for the day and gestured to a French press, “I’m pressing a very special Jamaican Blue Mountain blend for you today.”

 

The man was taken aback, surprised showed on his face. He had paid upwards seventy dollars a pound for those beans in the past.  Li-Li jumped in, “Mom roasted it for you. When she deposited our college fund tip jar, she was surprised to say the least.  So, after BB told her your tastes she created and roasted this blend just for you.”

 

The man’s heartbeat spiked. He was flattered but mostly afraid.  These kids had a mother, who could be anyone, but not likely to be a girl he knew years ago and thousands of miles away.  “Thank her for me.  I have enjoyed my morning coffee run and I will miss both you.” His voice became thick in his throat.

 

“Miss us?”  Li-Li was alarmed

 

BB gave up on the board.  “You’re leaving?”

 

The man looked at the teens, had anyone ever looked at him like that, like he was someone to be missed.  “Yeah, my sabbatical is at an end, it's time to return to my real life.” 

 

BB served the coffee and passed over the remaining bag of beans.  His “enjoy” was lackluster. 

 

“This,” the man gestured to the shop, “Has been the best part of my break.”  He hesitated, knowing what he was asking for wasn’t fair.  It would be foolish not to know what those kids saw in him.  He was many things but foolish wasn’t one, but perhaps he was.  He knew what he saw in those children.  The road he hadn’t taken, the road he closed himself off to when he was but twenty-nine.  How was he to know he could only love once?  How was he to know when he achieved everything, he wanted to achieve that it would leave him hollow? “How about we stay in touch when I return to the States? Let me give you my email and cell?”

 

In a manner that showed his age, he gestured for a pen and paper and in a handwriting eerily like the boy’s he wrote his name with a flourish.  _Kylo Ren._

The girl gasped. The boy rushed to her side and the man looked up to see a tear flow from the corner of her eye. 

 

The man was alarmed, “What’s wrong?”

 

It was the boy, BB, who answered, looking the man in the eye, “We had hoped your name was Ben Solo.”

 

The man’s head snapped up, face contorted his hands slapped the counter, “Where is Rey!” 

 

The boy held his gaze, hazel eyes boring into brown. He yelled, his voice bellowing out through the shop, loud enough to penetrate closed doors of the warehouse and office, “MOM!” 

 

The man’s heart beat fast, he couldn’t stop staring at the kids, taking in what was no longer in the realm of fantasy.  The boy’s height, the shaped of his nose, he way he smirked at him with Han Solo’s smirk. The grace of the girl, her general enthusiasm and smile, it wasn’t a coincidence.

 

The boy bellowed again, louder, “MOM! Come out here please!”

 

The intercom crackled.  “Benjamin, you had better have a good reason for not using the intercom, like a sane person.”

 

The man mouthed Benjamin, in awed wonder. He girl looked at him, “He was named for our father.”

 

“What about you Li-Li?” He asked.

 

“It’s Leia. Li-Li stands for Leia.”

 

He reached forward sweeping a tear off the girl’s cheek. “You have her eyes.”

 

The door to the warehouse, the roasting side of the business opened.  A woman stepped forward already asking, “Kids, what’s going on out here?”  She marched deeper into the shop, her steps halting the moment she saw him.

 

The man rushed forward his stride powerful, bearing down on the woman.  BB moved from behind the counter, unsure what to expect of the man’s behavior. Li-Li moved quickly as well.

 

When he reached her the man simply stopped and stared, leaning down to peer into a face he hadn’t seen for seventeen years.  “Rey, it’s really you.”  His hands cupped her cheeks engulfing her face in his large hands.  He lowered his face and kissed her.

 

The kids stopped and looked at each other.  Li-Li spoke first.  “It’s really him.  It’s really our father.”

 

 


End file.
